


Bruises on Your Throat Like My Fingerprints

by enawritesthings



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Pete, Choking, Dirty Talk, Dom Patrick, Face Slapping, Fluffy Ending, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Smut, Sub Pete, Top Patrick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 19:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4360640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enawritesthings/pseuds/enawritesthings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They both knew it was fucked up.  It wasn't healthy.  They were both doing it for the wrong reasons.  But they also knew they both needed it, craved it – enjoyed it, even.</p>
<p>Pete likes to get choked and slapped, and Patrick likes to do it for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bruises on Your Throat Like My Fingerprints

They both knew it was fucked up. It wasn't healthy. They were both doing it for the wrong reasons. But they also knew they both needed it, craved it – enjoyed it, even.  
  


Patrick slammed Pete up against the wall of his bedroom, hand wrapped around his throat tight enough to restrict his breathing, but not rough enough to leave bruises. He knew Pete liked the bruises, but the last time he'd left marks on Pete's neck, there'd been a shitstorm in the media, so he held back. He caressed Pete's cheek with his other hand, then growled, “I wish I could choke you the right way. I want to see my fingerprints on your skin. I wish I could hurt you the way I want to... leave bite marks on your throat, mark up your pretty face.”  
  


He let go of Pete's throat, grabbing his hair and pushing him to his knees. God, he loved looking at Pete on his knees. It was such a pretty picture. He wrenched Pete's head back. “You want to suck my cock, baby?”  
  


“Oh fuck yes,” Pete groaned, carelessly reaching for Patrick's zipper. Before he could yank his hand back, Patrick backhanded him across the face so hard Pete lost his balance. He fell sideways onto the carpet, whimpering and moaning in one breath. Kneeling on the carpet next to him, Patrick wound his hand through Pete's hair again, yanking him back to his knees.  
  


“Did I fucking say you could move?” Pete shook his head, eyes wide. “You'd better behave, or I won't let you come,” Patrick said, stroking Pete's cheek again. He did enjoy giving Pete what he wanted, but he hated the thought of punishing him. “I know you want me to hit you, but remember that I make the rules, babe. Don't try to force my hand again.”  
  


Patrick stood back up, undoing his pants. He tugged them down just far enough to free his cock, then ran a hand through Pete's hair, guiding his mouth, forcing him to take the entire length at once. Pete choked a little, so Patrick gave him a minute to relax before he started thrusting, fucking Pete's face roughly. Pete's eyes were closed, but tears were leaking from the corners as Patrick pulled his hair and fucked his mouth.  
  


Pete's mouth was fucking _made_ for sucking cock. It was enormous, for one thing, and his lips looked so pretty stretched around a hard cock. His tongue was quick, lapping at the head of Patrick's dick before sliding around to the underside and pressing up against that sensitive spot just below the ridge. Pete knew just the right way to bring Patrick right to the edge.  
  


Patrick pulled out just before he felt his orgasm closing in, squeezing the base of his dick to keep from coming. “Shit, you're good at that,” he panted, leaning down to press a kiss to those talented lips. “Fucking made for dick sucking, I swear to god. But now I want to fuck you.” Pete made a small sound, like a moan being swallowed, but Patrick decided to let it slide. He kissed him once more, a little rougher, biting and sucking on Pete's lower lip until it was swollen.  
  


“Take your clothes off and lay on the bed,” Patrick finally ordered, breaking the kiss and stripping off his own shirt. As Pete scrambled to obey, Patrick went over to his nightstand and fished out a condom and a bottle of lube. When he turned back to the bed and saw Pete spread naked against his comforter, his stomach did a flip. He knew what this was, but he couldn't help it. He'd known what this was for Pete, but he'd fallen in love with him anyway. It wasn't possible to form a relationship like this with Pete Wentz and _not_ fall in love with him. But he took a breath, shoved those feelings aside, and said, “Get yourself ready for me.”  
  


Pete bent his knees, spreading his legs, and reached down to start fingering himself open. Patrick tossed him the lube, then pulled his pants the rest of the way off. Pete's cock was hard and leaking precum already, but Patrick's had softened slightly. It didn't take long, though – by the time Pete had worked three fingers inside himself, Patrick was rock hard, jacking himself slowly while watching. He grabbed the condom, rolling it down his length, and crawled onto the bed on his knees. Smacking Pete's hand out of the way, he lined his dick up, then pushed inside.  
  


Pete's ass was perfect. Patrick loved smacking it, grabbing it, and biting it, but he especially loved fucking it. He was tight and warm and fit Patrick's cock like a glove. The first time they'd fucked, Patrick had come in just two thrusts because it felt so amazing.  
  


He wasn't going to come so quickly this time, though. He started out slow – gentle, almost – but then he thrust  _hard_ , watching Pete's eyes pop open in surprise and pain. Patrick thrust again, hips snapping against Pete's thighs, and Pete let out a moan. Immediately, he looked up guiltily at Patrick, eyes wide.  
  


Patrick thrust again, slapping Pete across the face. “Didn't fucking say you could make noise,” he groaned, snapping his hips hard enough to leave bruises along the backs of Pete's thighs. “Am I gonna have to keep you quiet?”  
  


Pete moaned again, maybe in agreement, maybe involuntarily. Patrick slapped him harder this time, leaving a bright red mark across Pete's cheek. “I guess so,” he growled, wrapping a hand around Pete's throat. He was still fucking him hard, but he sped up slightly now. His fingers dug into the flesh of Pete's neck, and he felt Pete's hands on his back start to clench. Patrick fucked him harder, faster, squeezing his throat, feeling Pete's nails scratch down his spine and watching his face redden, his eyes widen. Just before he was about to come, again, he let go. He pulled out of Pete's ass, making Pete cry out.  
  


“I want you to ride me,” Patrick gasped, squeezing his dick. He collapsed on the bed next to Pete, panting. “Fuck, Pete, you feel so fucking good. Want you to ride me, baby.”  
  


Pete clambered on top of Patrick eagerly. He slowly took all of Patrick's length, gasping slightly when he was full. He looked imploringly down at Patrick, who nodded, saying, “All right, you can make noise.”  
  


“Holy fuck,” Pete gasped immediately, slowly sliding back up Patrick's cock. “Fuck yeah, Trick, yes, oh my god.”  
  


“Jesus, Pete, I remember why I keep you quiet.” Patrick gave a strained chuckle, closing his eyes against the sight of Pete riding him. Pete had found a comfortable rhythm now, bouncing up and down on Patrick's dick, and Patrick couldn't stop staring at Pete's cock as it bounced along with him. It slapped against Pete's tight abs, then swung low enough to touch the soft swell of Patrick's belly, then back again. He was hard and leaking, but Patrick hadn't given Pete permission to touch himself, so his cock was left untouched, flopping around between them as Pete fucked himself raw on Patrick's dick.  
  


Patrick was trying so hard not to come yet, but Pete's moaning was not helping – just Patrick's name over and over, among a string of obscenities. He couldn't take it anymore – he drew back and slapped Pete across the face as hard as he could. Then he reached up and grabbed his throat, grunting out, “Shut the fuck up, Pete, you're going to make me come.” Pete's eyes widened as Patrick squeezed his throat, his cheek reddened from the slap, and all of a sudden he was coming, violently, all over Patrick's chest.  
  


Patrick fucked him slowly through it, desperately hanging on to his own orgasm, and when Pete stopped shuddering Patrick yanked him off to the side by his hair. “Sit the fuck up,” he panted, ripping the condom off his cock. He grabbed Pete's head, shoving his cock into his open mouth. “Oh shit, yes,” he moaned, his cock sliding all the way down Pete's throat. Pete moaned around it, his throat tightening, as Patrick fucked his mouth. “Goddammit, Pete, I'm going to fucking come all over your fucking face. Shit – yes – fuck, I'm gonna-”  
  


He pulled out just in time, wrapping a hand around his cock as thick, white ropes shot out and hit Pete's face – his cheek, his eyes, his open mouth. Patrick moaned, jerking himself off like there was no tomorrow, watching Pete lick his lips clean. He fell back onto the bed when he was finished, completely wiped.  
  


Pete leaned over and grabbed his t-shirt, wiping his face, then gently cleaning Patrick up. He threw the t-shirt back onto the floor, then snuggled as close as he could get to Patrick. They lay like that for a few minutes, Patrick's hand carding through Pete's hair, Pete gently stroking Patrick's belly, neither of them making a sound.  
  


Finally, Pete spoke. “Thank you,” he said simply, his voice soft and sleepy.  
  


“For what?” Patrick asked, running his hand up and down Pete's back, making him shiver.  
  


“All of this,” Pete murmured. “Fucking me. Hurting me. I know this is probably really weird for you, but I... I need it. And I appreciate you giving it to me.”  
  


Patrick smiled. “Why would you think it's weird for me to fuck and choke my best friend?”  
  


Pete laughed softly, Patrick's favorite sound in the world. “Because, dude. It's totally weird. I mean, you're like... not into this, right? And you're just doing it for me. Which is great, but I'm sure you feel weird about it.”  
  


“Actually,” Patrick said, sleepy and stupid with contentment, “I am into it. I'm into you.”  
  


Pete froze. “What?”  
  


“I'm into you,” Patrick repeated, before noticing the change in Pete's body language. “Shit. No, I mean – I'm not... like... I mean, I know you're not... fuck.” He covered his eyes with his free hand, face burning. He'd just ruined the best thing in his life, and now his best friend probably fucking hated him. Awesome.  
  


Pete sat up, his eyes wide with surprise, but he didn't look horrified like Patrick was expecting. He looked  _happy_ . “Patrick, are you in love with me?”  
  


Patrick blushed. Pete took that as a yes. He threw his arms around Patrick, kissing his cheek and neck. “Trick! You love me!”  
  


“Is that... okay?”  
  


“Oh my god. I've been in love with you for _months_ now.” Pete giggled. “I was just afraid you'd want to stop this if I told you.”  
  


Patrick felt like his heart was going to burst. “I never want to stop this,  _ever_ ,” he growled, pushing Pete down onto the bed and kissing him deeply. “You're stuck with me.”

 


End file.
